The thriller was not a good thriller.
It was the kind of movie where the music told you when to be scared, and the camera lingered on dark corners for too long, and the characters made stupid decisions like splitting up in a haunted house.
But Kin didn't care.
Because every time a jump scare happened—and there were many—Lina flinched. And every time she flinched, she moved closer.
The first jump scare: a hand on a window. She jerked and her elbow touched his arm.
The second: a face in a mirror. She slid three inches toward him.
The third: a door slamming. Her shoulder pressed against his.
By the fourth jump scare, they were touching from shoulder to hip. Kin could feel her warmth through his shirt. She smelled like tamarind and something floral—the same detergent, he realized. She used it on her own clothes.
He didn't move away.
Neither did she.
The movie droned on. A chase scene. A false ending. Another jump scare. Lina grabbed his forearm. Her nails dug in.
"You're going to leave marks," he whispered.
"Shut up," she whispered back.
She didn't let go.
At some point—he wasn't sure when—her grip loosened. Her breathing slowed. Her head tilted and rested against his shoulder.
Then it got heavier.
She's asleep, he realized.
He sat very still. The movie played on, some actor screaming about revenge. Lina's chest rose and fell in a slow rhythm. Her hand was still on his forearm, but limp now.
I should wake her, he thought.
He didn't.
He let her sleep for a while. Ten minutes. Maybe fifteen. The credits rolled. The screen went dark. The only light in the room was the grey glow from the kitchen window.
She's not waking up.
Kin shifted carefully. He slid one arm under her knees, the other behind her back. She was lighter than he expected—or maybe he was stronger than he remembered. The System's legacy strength, he realized. The combined power of forty-seven previous hosts.
He stood up. She didn't stir.
He carried her to the bedroom. The door was open. Her bed was unmade, a grey blanket bunched at the foot. He laid her down gently, her head on the pillow.
Her eyes fluttered open.
She blinked up at him. Sleepy. Confused.
"You carried me," she said. Her voice was thick.
"You fell asleep."
"I know." She smiled—small, genuine, still half-asleep. "You're stronger than you look."
"You're not heavy."
"That's not a compliment."
"It's physics."
She laughed, a soft breath of a sound. Then she reached up and touched his face. Her fingers traced his jaw.
"Stay," she said.
I should go, he thought. I have a mission. I have—
He stayed.
He sat on the edge of the bed. She pulled his arm until he lay down next to her. They faced each other. Her hand was still on his face.
"You're warm," she said.
"You're tired."
"I'm awake enough."
She leaned forward. Her lips brushed his.
It wasn't planned. It wasn't dramatic. It was just a question, pressed softly against his mouth. Do you want this?
He answered.
The kiss deepened. Her hand slid into his hair—the same way she'd touched him before, but different now. Slower. Deliberate. Her fingers curled at the nape of his neck. His hand found her waist. She made a small sound, not quite a sigh.
They pulled apart just enough to breathe.
"We shouldn't," she said.
"I know."
"Things are complicated."
"I know."
"You have secrets."
"I know."
She kissed him again. Harder this time. He rolled onto his back and she followed, half on top of him, her hair falling around his face like a curtain. Her mouth was warm and tasted like tamarind.
Then she stopped.
She pulled back and looked down at him. Her eyes were dark, serious.
"I don't do this," she said.
"Do what?"
"This. Attachments. Bonds. Whatever you want to call it."
"You mentioned that."
"I mean it."
"I believe you."
She rolled off him and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. He turned his head to look at her.
"Why did you kiss me?" he asked.
"I don't know." She paused. "Maybe because you carried me to bed like I weighed nothing. Maybe because you didn't wake me up. Maybe because you're strange and stupid and you bought me yellow flowers."
"Those are all terrible reasons."
"I know."
They lay in silence. The room was dark. The only sound was their breathing.
"We shouldn't do that again," she said.
"Probably not."
"Things are... I have things. You have things. We're both broken in different ways."
"Broken things can still fit together."
She turned her head to look at him. "That's the stupidest thing you've said all day."
"I'm trying to be poetic."
"Don't."
He laughed. She laughed. The tension broke like a thread.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For kissing you. For... starting something I don't understand."
"You didn't start it. I kissed you first."
"Then I'm sorry for kissing you back."
She reached over and smacked his chest. "Stop apologizing."
"Sorry."
She smacked him again.
They lay there, side by side, not touching. The ceiling had a crack in it—smaller than Gerald, but similar. Kin wondered if every ceiling in the building had a crack.
"I should go," he said.
"In a minute."
"Lina—"
"In a minute." Her voice was soft. Tired. "Just... lie here for a minute."
He lied there.
His eyes got heavy.
***
He woke up to a blue glow.
[Alert: 30 minutes until next mission.]
[Target: Elias Vane – Bank Director.]
[Location: 14 km northeast. Private estate.]
[Current Time: 10:47 PM.]
Kin's eyes snapped open.
Lina was curled against him, her head on his chest, one arm draped across his stomach. She was still asleep. Her breathing was slow and peaceful.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He needed to move. Now.
But if he shifted, she'd wake up. She'd ask questions. She'd see him leave in the middle of the night. She'd—
[Solution Available: Speed Sequence – Silent Departure.]
[Duration: 3 seconds. Effect: Move from current position to outside the building without sound or vibration.]
[Cost: 2,000 SN.]
[Accept?]
Yes. Yes. Yes.
[Activating.]
The world blurred.
One moment, he was in Lina's bed, her body warm against his. The next, he was standing on the sidewalk outside her building, fully dressed, heart pounding. The transition was so fast he didn't feel his feet touch the floor.
He looked up at her window. The light was off.
She doesn't know I'm gone.
[Speed Sequence Complete. Silent Departure Successful.]
[Remaining time: 27 minutes.]
Kin ran.
***
The System fed him a map. Blue lines painted across his vision, guiding him through back alleys and side streets. His legs moved faster than human—not the superhuman speed of before, but a steady, ground-eating pace that ate up kilometers.
[Target Briefing – Elias Vane]
[Age: 54. Occupation: Regional Bank Director.]
[Crimes: Loan sharking, extortion, forced conscription.]
[Details: Vane lends money to desperate families. When they cannot pay, he offers "alternatives." Men are forced into military service—private armies, border conflicts, suicide missions. Women and children are sold to traffickers. Those who refuse are killed.]
[Estimated victims: 2,300+ over 12 years.]
[Current operation: Vane has been expanding into human smuggling. His estate is guarded by 12 armed men. He rarely leaves his property.]
[Warning: This target is more guarded than the general. I will not take control of your body this time. You must act on your own.]
Kin's blood ran cold. On my own?
[Weapons provided:
· Palladium Katana (same as before)
· Chainsaw (electric, cordless, 18-inch bar)
· Semi-automatic pistol: Glock 17 (17-round magazine, suppressed)
[Do you have questions?]
"Chainsaw?" Kin panted as he ran. "Why a chainsaw?"
[You will see.]
That's not an answer.
[It is the only answer you will get. Keep moving. 22 minutes remaining.]
Kin turned a corner. The blue line led him into a residential district—nicer than his, with actual trees and gates. The houses got bigger. The streets got quieter.
[Target estate: 800 meters.]
[Recommendation: Approach from the rear. The front gate has cameras.]
Kin slowed to a walk. His breath was harsh in his ears. He could feel the weapons in his hands—the katana, the Glock, and the chainsaw. The chainsaw was heavier than he expected. It smelled like oil and metal.
What am I supposed to do with a chainsaw? Cut down a tree?
The System didn't answer.
Kin took a deep breath.
Then another.
The blue line pulsed. Follow.
He followed.